Technicolor Eyes
by LoveIsWrittenOnMyArms
Summary: The deep and personal ramblings of a teenage popstar. Slight AU. Lilly-centric.
1. Chapter 1

**Technicolor Eyes**

-or-

_The Deep and Personal Ramblings of a Teenage Popstar_

--

Lets be honest with ourselves, ladies and gentlemen, every normal person has been embarrassed at one point. No matter what the situation was, or what you thought, everyone's been embarrassed before.

I'm no exception.

Yeah. Even me.

Me, Lilly Truscott, popstar/actress starlet, currently on the richest minors list. As much as I'd like to say I haven't, I have. If you asked me the same a year ago, I'd deny it like the best of them, but now, I'm glad to say that I've embarrassed myself quite a few times. Most of them after September 8th, 2007.

The day I started public school.

Well, lemme explain.

I've been in showbiz my entire life. Ever since I appeared on my dad's show when I was 7, I've been on the top. And in those eight years, I became the girl my parents wanted me to be. A modest, but talented youth who was gifted with opportunities. Unfortunately, this goodie two shoes image didn't sit well with my manager, and he decided to stir up trouble. Now the entire country thinks I'm a stuck up brat who only cares about money. Also unfortunate, was that this got me half of my fan base.

Then, forgetting who I really was and only seeing the fake side the media made of me, my parents decided to send me to public school.

I should take you back a couple of months for this.

Lets start… September 8th. The day it all started.

I woke up early so I could spend a little time alone. As usual. I grabbed my guitar from its place and sat down one the floor by the window in my room. I practiced for a few minutes in scales and chords and then started playing.

G…..D…..Am….C

And again.

"These four walls…. They whisper to me. They know secrets… I knew they would not keep. Didn't take long, for the room to fill with dust, then these four walls…came down around us." I sang quietly. I heard a knock on my door and gasped. I ran over to it, setting the guitar on my bed. I opened the door in a crack and looked out to see my mother.

"Good morning." She said quietly.

"Good morning."

"Your up I suppose?"

"Yes."

"Well, get ready for school. You don't want to be late." The end of that sounded more like a threat than a statement or question. I nodded and closed the door. I went towards my closet and found an outfit. Purple zebra striped skinny jeans and a black t-shirt. Some converse that I painted myself. I went downstairs to see my mother sitting there eating breakfast that our cook probably made. She looked at me confused.

"What on earth are you wearing?" She asked in a disgusted voice. I looked down at my clothes quietly and looked at her confused.

"What's wrong with my clothes?" I asked.

"Lilly, sweetie, that can't have come from your closet. Go change into some approved clothes and we'll go." She said. You heard her. I have a list of approvable clothing that I'm supposed to wear for my 'image'. I looked at her annoyed.

"Mom, I'm not changing. I like this, and I don't care if Jeffery or the label doesn't like it. If they don't, tell them to drop me." I snapped. She looked me over again and sighed.

"Fine. At least put on a jacket. You can't afford to get sick this close to the start of filming." She said, standing up. I rolled my eyes and went to the hall closet. I got my bag and a jacket and My mother and I left the house.

I am in strong belief that my parents, manager and my owners (the record label) are working together to make my life as fabulous seeming as possible.

Now, as much as you'll hate me to say it, arriving at a public school in a limo is probably the most embarrassing experience on earth. I looked up at the school quietly. The door opened and I stepped out.

This is going to be a nightmare.

I went inside and found the locker that was supposed to be mine. I opened it and thanked it was empty, and not resulting in one of those clichéd things where your forced to share with a really cute boy who just so happens to hate you.

I put some things in the locker that I didn't need, and sighed.

"And the I was all… whoosh! And then she was all…. Whoa!" it was awesome." I heard someone next to me say. I looked to see the back of a boy's head. He was facing another guy, raising his arms in gestures as he spoke.

"Nice." The second guy said.

"YEAH! And the--" His arm flung back and he whapped me in the head. I yelped and my hand shot to my head.

"Ow!" I shouted. The boy spun around to look at me.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry."

"Watch it!" I yelped. I slammed my locker shut. I looked up at him. Holy…

"Uhg… well you don't have to be rude. I said I was sorry." He remarked, shutting his locker, and walking with his brother away from me.

Joe Jonas is my locker neighbor, and he already hates me.

Public school's just great.

* * *

GOSH WHY DO I HAVE SO MANY NEW STORIES.

EW.

I hope you guys like this story, and if you do, reviews are rad, cause it tells me whether or not I should keep writing it.

I won't be around for a few days cause I'm going out of town.

MY NEW FAVORITE BAND IS BACKSEAT GOODBYE.

(OMIEGOD, THANK YOU SO MUCH, CAYCE!)

You all need to go download it. Right now. And listen to Technicolor Eyes, and you'll know everything you'll ever need to know about me.

I'm not even joking.

Also... Chuck Prophet is amazing.

And Ben Kweller, but thats a standing favorite.

So, Artist That You All Need To Go Look Up Right Now;

Backseat Goodbye  
Chuck Prophet  
Ben Kweller  
Brooke Fraser  
Anna Nalick  
War On Drugs _(Because their so amazingly indie, despite the scarinesses of their name.)_

Alrighty?

Kay. Bai!!

Lessthanthreeeee

-Emilie


	2. Help!

Hey, guys.

I don't know what's going on with my whole writting deal. I'm probably just gonna try to continue as best I can with what I have.

**I'm looking for a writing partner to share this account with. **

No joke, I'm serious. I can't handle all of the stories by myself, and I'd love to write with someone again, because I've got so much work to do.

If you've got your own account, that's cool, it doesn't matter. Just send me a link to some writing, and I'll get back to you.

I'm sort of desprate. Please, please, anyone.

PM me, or Email me at

I'm kind of on stand still at the moment.

I'm not gonna update for a week or two, then I might start again if someone starts writing with me...ok?

Sorry this isn't an update, but I really needed to get this out!

Love you guys,

Emilie


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